


Accidents Happen

by theshipqueen



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dance, Ballet Dancer Lance, Coming In Pants, Dancer Keith (Voltron), Dancer Lance (Voltron), Gender-Neutral Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Kpop Dancer Keith, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-03
Updated: 2016-09-03
Packaged: 2018-08-12 18:46:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7945249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theshipqueen/pseuds/theshipqueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Lance goes to the studio to practice, but gets a little distracted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Accidents Happen

Lance had been a dancer for as long as he could remember. Ever since he was little, he’d been making up dances and performing them for family members in the living room. He loved the rush. Not only from performing, but the adrenaline that coursed through his veins as he danced, the ecstasy of perfectly executing a move, the applause afterward. He loved every bit of it.

Naturally, he kept dancing throughout his life. Although he’d done a little of just about every genre, his favorite was ballet. It was light and airy, but still required immense strength and concentration, and, not to mention, hours upon hours of practice. Sure, it was physically and emotionally taxing, but the end result was beyond worth it.

After being involved in dance for so long, Lance thought he’d try his hand at instructing a class. He taught a class of seven and eight-year-olds ballet once a week. The owners of the studio were family friends of Lance’s parents, which greatly helped his chances of actually getting the job. He loved the kids he worked with, don’t get him wrong, but that routine was far too easy for what he was capable of.

The studio offered the unused rooms to those who wished to practice outside of classes, but no one really took advantage of these apart from Lance and a few of the hip-hop instructors. Which was nice, to an extent. The privacy was nice, but he often missed the company of other dancers.

He pushed open the door, the natural light that flooded the room and reflected from the mirrors causing Lance to squint. Three of the four walls were covered floor to ceiling in mirrors with double oak barres two-thirds of the way down, with hardwood flooring. The barres wrapped around the entire room. Against the back wall stood a decent sound system, the speakers situated in the upper corners of the room.

Scents of earthy rosin, sweat, and new shoes filled Lance’s nose. The room smelled like home away from home.

An unknown male figure stood in front of the sound system, scrolling through his music library.

Mid-length black hair was tied back into a ponytail and toned shoulders filled out a v-neck shirt almost too nicely. Red retro athletic shorts with white trim stretched across one of the roundest butts Lance had ever seen. On his feet were a pair of plain black and white hi-top sneakers. He didn’t even have to see the guy’s face to know he was hot as fuck. He grabbed the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head and setting it on top of the black gym back that sat on the floor. Lance felt his face redden several shades as he examined the way the light caught the sweat on the man’s abs.

The beginning of an upbeat song filled the room. The man squatted, his hands up near his face, vaguely resembling cat’s paws. He stood up, continuing the dance. His hips popped to the sides and sauntered around, his eyes never leaving the mirror. Thankfully, this meant that he probably didn’t notice Lance staring at him from the other side of the room.

Whatever song he was dancing to was definitely not in English, but Lance couldn’t quite put a finger on what language it was, exactly. In all honesty, the language of the song didn’t matter. What did matter, however, was the downright sultry way that this guy rolled his hips, blatantly sticking his ass out. The way the muscles in his legs flexed with every squat almost made Lance drool, his leggings feeling extremely tight.

Lance assumed the song had something to do with cats, with the way the dancer moved hands to look like he was grooming himself. Lance found his eyes drawn like a magnet to the stranger’s backside when he turned his back to the mirror, moving his hips from side to side.

The song came to an end and he dropped back into a squat, mirroring the beginning, with a hand underneath his chin, the other resting on his knee.

The man’s tongue darted out between his lips for a moment. His chest heaving, trying to take in more oxygen, trying to regulate his elevated heart beat.

Lance’s heart skipped a beat at the sight. A strangled noise snuck out of his throat as his pants suddenly felt much less uncomfortable than they had felt a minute ago. His breath stuttered in his chest and a feeling of wetness spread in the front of his pants.

The man must have either seen or heard Lance because he was starting to walk toward him. Panic rose in Lance’s core, standing stark still.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t see you there. Were you waiting to use the speakers?” His voice was low and gravelly, wiping at his hairline.

Instead of answering, Lance squeaked and made a beeline to the restroom attached to the back of the room. He locked the door behind him, pulling out his phone and frantically typing out a text.

 

* * *

 

**[To: Pidgey]**

pIDGE

**[To: Pidgey]**

YOU HAVE TO BRING ME A CHANGE OF CLOTHES

**[To: Pidgey]**

PLS ITS AN EMERGENCY

**[From: Pidgey]**

lance wtf i literally dropped u off like 10 mins ago

**[To: Pidgey]**

P L E A S E

**[From: Pidgey]**

fine jfc

**[From: Pidgey]**

what do u need

**[To: Pidgey]**

shirt & sweatpants i guess

**[To: Pidgey]**

… and underwear

**[From: Pidgey]**

r u fuckin kidding me

**[From: Pidgey]**

did u piss urself again

**[To: Pidgey]**

THAT WAS ONE TIME

**[To: Pidgey]**

please just help me out man

**[To: Pidgey]**

ill do the dishes for the next month if you do me this one solid

**[From: Pidgey]**

ok

**[From: Pidgey]**

omw

 

* * *

 

The plastic shopping bag crinkled in Pidge’s hand as they entered the studio room. According to Lance’s text, he was currently hiding out in the bathroom. They figured as much, considering the only other person in the room was sitting on the floor, stretching out his legs. Pidge gave a nod of acknowledgment, and the man followed suit.

They made their way to the bathroom, giving it a few quick knocks. “Delivery,” they deadpanned.

The door opened a crack, a tan arm reaching for the bag.

“Not so fast, buddy,” Pidge chastised. “Not until you tell me exactly why I needed to bring you a change of pants and underwear.”

Lance groaned, leaning his head on the metal door frame. “Pidge, please, just give me my clothes.”

They shook their head. Movement on the other side of the room caught their eye. The man from before began doing some kind of intricate hip-hop dance, white earbuds in his ears connected to a device in his pocket. Pidge pushed their glasses up, nodding and humming. They turned back to Lance with a knowing grin.

“You totally came in your pants like a twelve-year-old, didn’t you?” they asked.

A blush spread from the tips of Lance’s ears across his nose and cheeks. “No!” he squeaked, clearing his throat afterward. “Of course not.”

“You totally did, oh my God,” they erupted into a fit of laughter. “I have to tell Hunk.” Fingers tapped at their phone screen at the speed of light, smiling wickedly the whole time.

Lance whined and grabbed for the bag again. “You’re the worst, you know that?”

Hunk arrived a few minutes later to join in on the ridicule. He laughed as Pidge explained the situation and Lance pouted. Wiping a tear from his eye, he turned to Pidge, motioning for them to hand over the bag.

“Okay, give him his clothes now. As much as I’d love to sit here and make fun of Lance all day, it’s been long enough.” He handed the bag over to Lance.

Lance sighed gratefully, taking his clothes and shutting the door.

Pidge and Hunk looked at each other and began laughing hysterically. The two were too engrossed in how hilarious Lance’s agony to notice the man approaching them.

“Hey,” he started, “is your friend okay? Did he get sick or something?”

Pidge snorted. “You can say that.”

The man tilted his head, confused.

“Y’know, he gets _worked up_ really easily,” they said, quirking up an eyebrow.

His expression stayed blank, and Pidge gave an awkward cough, abandoning the subject.

Lance emerged from the bathroom, his dirty clothes now in the plastic shopping bag, the handle hanging off his index finger.

“Honestly, Pidge, how did you _expect_ me to react to an ass that fi--”

Lance cut himself off mid-word as he stood in front of the owner of the ass he was just raving about.

He looked at Lance, squinting a little. “Are you okay? You were in the bathroom a pretty long time.”

Lance hid the bag behind his back, praying the man in front of him wouldn’t recognize he’d changed clothes.

“Yeah, yeah, all good here!” Lance sputtered, laughing to fill the awkward silence.

He replied with a nod, turning around, walking in the other direction.

Lance buried his face in his hands, groaning. “Please tell me that didn’t just happen.”

Pidge pinched the bridge of their nose. “Are you gonna go ask for his number, or what?”

“Huh?”

They took the bag from him, shoving him in the direction of the mystery dancer. “Go get his number. We all know you’ll regret it if you don’t, and you’ll never shut up about it.” They glanced at the bag before grimacing and dropping it to the floor.

Lance’s eyes went wide and he nodded, taking long strides to the opposite side of the room. He tapped the man’s shoulder and he turned around to face Lance.

As per usual, Lance stuttered around his words before actually being able to form a real sentence. “Hey, can I get your number? Maybe we can go out and get coffee or something sometime, if you’d want to, that is!” His cheeks started to turn pink, bringing a hand up to scratch the back of his head nervously.

A smile pulled at pale lips, and he nodded, pulling out his phone. “Yeah, sure.” He handed his phone to Lance to enter his contact information. Lance did the same, just about dropping his phone on the hardwood floor.

Lance handed the phone back as his own was placed back in his hands.

“I’ve gotta get going, but I’m looking forward to that coffee,” he looked down at his phone before finishing his sentence, “Lance.”

Lance’s blush deepened as he looked down at the screen. “Yeah! Me too, Keith.”

Keith waved and picked up his bag, heading out the door.

Pidge and Hunk walked up behind Lance when Pidge spoke up.

“Keith is quite possibly the most awful name I’ve ever heard for a guy that hot.”

“Yeah,” Lance replied, still watching the door with a small smile on his face. “It’s pretty bad.”

**Author's Note:**

> EDIT: Special thanks to my roommate Eden for drawing some beautiful fanart for this! Check it out here! http://edenfire.tumblr.com/post/149963511285/the-song-came-to-an-end-and-he-dropped-back-into-a 
> 
> ( Here's the dance that Keith was doing, if you're curious: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=srK7Vj5p9Tg )
> 
> \---  
> Follow me on tumblr @ pidgeotgunderson


End file.
